Avoiding Crisis

Posts Tagged ‘relationships

and so it begins…

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We might not know where we are going or exactly when but we are leaving Argentina in about 6 months time.

Six months may seem like a long time, but when you’re talking about a major international move, and all the components that go along with it, 6 months is really not that long. Oh no, not long at all.

So now that the holiday’s are over A and I have turned our focus towards cleaning house and downsizing, or at least attempting to.

My lord, do you know how much crap a family of four accumulates in 2 1/2 years.  It’s a whole lot of stuff.  There are the baby toys that you arrived with that your then almost 7 month old adored but your now almost 3 year old could care less about, the multiple car seats that both kids outgrew, an obscenely large collection of Fisher Price Little People that neither of the kids have touched in the past 6 months, the three strollers they have exceeded the weight limit on, and the piles and piles of clothes and shoes that are way too small for their ever growing bodies. And that’s just the kids stuff. Don’t even let me get started about the 50+ t-shirts that he has schlepped from the USA to Peru to Argentina and yet hasn’t worn even 1/4th of them during the past 5 years. Oh and let us not forget all the other crap we’ve carted with us from Lima that we haven’t actually used since, well, let’s see, oh yeah, since leaving the States back in ’03.

I really don’t look forward to this process.  Well, that’s not true, If I could do it all by myself I would probably like it a lot, I think it would even be cathartic. But getting rid of shit when you are married to a sentimental pack rat is really not a whole lot of fun. And I’ll admit, to be fair to A, being a sentimental pack rat married to someone who tends to take the complete opposite approach and lacks emotional attachment to most inanimate objects kinda sucks too.

Here’s a typical conversation we have while going through our stuff.

A picks up a toy and starts playing with it.

A: You know that I’ve had this toy since I was a little boy. I can remember playing with it in the house in Pennsylvania. (toy in question is a long plastic maze type toy that is about 1.5 feet by 1 inch. And A only lived in PA until he was in 1st grade.) Can you believe that I still have it and that it’s here with us?
N: Uh, no.
A: I think the kids would like to play with it, don’t you?
N: Uh, NO.
A: We are NOT getting rid of it.
N: It would probably make some poor Argentine child living in a villa miseria very very happy.
A: It will make MY kids happy.
N: Please remind me again why it is that we need to keep this toy. Last time Owen found it he proceeded to chase Abbey around the house with it and used it like a sword. It hurts if you get hit by it. I know from personal experience. Do you really think that they really need to have it.
A: It doesn’t weigh much.

A leaves the room with the toy and returns without it.

N: Where’s the silly stick maze thing?
A: I put it with the kid’s toys. They like it. And it’s NOT silly.

End of conversation.

And while it might not sound that bad, imagine having to deal with this EVERY single time you don’t agree on the fate of a particular object. And imagine if the object in question happens to weigh 110 pounds (our gas grill), which also is equal to 1.5% of our total weight allowance. And while this might not seem like a lot, when you only have 7200 pounds total shipping weight to work with, every pound counts. Things can get a bit stressful.

The grill is coming with us and so is the stupid silly toy.

One of these days I’ll win. One of these days.

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Written by nicolemarie

December 30, 2007 at 9:32 pm

the pity party is officially over

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or at least that’s what I’m telling myself. 

Have you ever have one of those moments when someone asks you a simple question like “what’s up?” and find yourself mute and unable to answer this very simple question?  That you can’t seem to immediately come up with the words “nothing much.  what’s up with you”?  You eventually answer the question, after a few seconds of hesitation and a slight look of confusion on your face, but only because answering it is like breathing, it’s involuntary.

Sometimes I find that when I’m asked a simple question like “how are you?” or “what have you been up to?”, which are practically non-questions really, I think too much about the answer.  I know that the person asking the question only wants a simple response such as “I’m fine”  or “Things are great” and that they aren’t looking for some in-depth analysis of my current life. I get this, I do. I’ve mastered basic social skills (At least I like to think I have.)  And I answer the question accordingly, with the expected and anticipated response.   

But sometimes with a simple question like “how are you”  I get stuck and then I obsess.  So while I answer, “I’m good,”  the wheels in my head are turning and working on overdrive trying to figure out how i am really.  It’s at this point that I become distant and while I try to remain engaged in the conversation and the niceties that follow, my mind is elsewhere.  And so I end up being stuck inside my own head mulling around and making things worse for myself.  Which I think is why people often find me spacey or easily distracted.

I’m done walking around with my head stuck in a cloud. I’m done feeling lost and alone and confused. I”m done with this little pity party that I’ve been throwing for myself.  I really have to stop thinking too much into everything. 

Written by nicolemarie

November 21, 2007 at 10:59 am

Posted in moods, poem

Tagged with , ,

i met this guy in a bar and….

with 3 comments

This morning, out of the blue, my husband told me that he had been lying awake in bed thinking about one of the first weekends we spent together in NYC and how it was at the moment when he had to say goodbye that he knew that I was someone very special in his life.   There is a whole crazy, this-shit-only-happens-in-cheesy-romantic-comedies-esque story that goes along with this particular goodbye, but you’ll have to wait for that. 

What he said got me to thinking about how we met and how we ended up together. 

I met my husband, A,  while I was still in college.  He had just finished a Masters in Forensic Psychology and was packing up to leave the city.  The fall semester was almost over.  I had a few finals left, but was taking a break from studying. 

I had been dating someone else.  It was a long distance romance that had its share of problems.  Still, I wasn’t actively looking for someone that evening.

I had been entertaining the idea of moving to Washington, DC after graduation.  So when A and I began to talk and I learned that he had grown up in Northern Virginia and was returning to the area, I was interested in hearing what he had to say about work and life in the nation’s capital.  I thought he seemed like a nice enough guy and since I didn’t know anyone in the DC area I figured it couldn’t hurt to get an early start on making new friends in what probably would be my new home.  We exchanged email addresses.  I wasn’t the type of girl to give out my phone number to random guys I met at a bar.

The semester ended, the holidays came and went, and with it, my previous relationship. 

Sometime in late January early February I got an email from A.  It was a very casual, what’s up? kind of email. I didn’t think much of it.  I responded. 

And so it began. 

Soon one email a day turned into 10.  I’d check my email before and after class, I’d find myself daydreaming in class wondering if he had gotten back to me;  thinking about all the things he might have written; wanting so badly for him to have written me.  We talked about everything and about nothing.  About his dog, Peanut, and how she had gotten a bag of Cheetos stuck on her head, which caused her fur to turn orange.  And about how we both loved Cheetos — the crunchy kind, of course — and how we were both known, from time to time, to be able to consume an entire big bag of the little orange crunchy things in one sitting.

Soon our emails turned into nightly IM chats and then marathon phone conversations.  While I should have been cranking away at my senior thesis, working on my resume, and networking for jobs, I instead found myself waiting to talk to him via email, IM or by phone.  

In the meantime, my ex and I were trying to patch things up.  Or maybe we had already patched things up.  I’m not sure, I think I was in denial at the time. 

Getting back to me and A.  We had developed this awesome friendship and yet we had only met once, and only for a few minutes.  And while this may not seem so out of the ordinary these days, with all the social networking sites linking people to each other and the frequency of online dating, at that time it did seem totally strange. And yet, at the same time, it made complete sense. 

In March, the Barnard Alumnae Club of DC and the Office of Career Development teamed up to host a reception and networking events in DC for seniors who were interested in working in the nation’s capital.  I drove down to DC from NY.  The events were scheduled for a few days prior to spring break so I decided to stick around the area for a few extra days afterwords to see some friends and then head up to Pennsylvania to see my kinda, sorta, I don’t know what you would call him at the time, boyfriend.  

From the time I had arrived in DC, A and I had been trying to get together for dinner or at least a drink.  Totally platonic, of course.  At least that’s what I was telling myself.  He was working and I was busy with Barnard stuff so it had to wait until the weekend.  Eventually we found time.  We decided to meet at the Tyson’s Corner Mall.  It was about half way between where he lived and where I was staying and it was this huge landmark that I couldn’t possibly miss — needless to say, I suck with directions.  

Having had only met once and for such a short time, the whole evening felt quite like a blind date, or what I would imagine a blind date to feel like seeing how I had never been on one.  Not that it was a date or anything.  Just two friends getting together for dinner.

So I parked the car.  We met outside Bloomingdale’s — another landmark I was familiar with and wouldn’t possibly miss.  We got in his car and went to have dinner.  It was but a 5 minute ride to a restaurant.  Nothing fancy, just pizza and beer. 

But in those 5 minutes there was this tension between us, an attraction that I hadn’t felt in such a long time.  I felt at the same time completely alive and unbelievably terrified. I guess that’s what people call chemistry.

We got out of the car and started to walk across the parking lot.  I stopped walking.  Balancing on one of those yellow painted concrete barriers that mark off the end of parking spaces.  A came over to see what was up.  I said nothing.  I stepped off the concrete block that i was standing on and stepped practically right into him.  I told him that I was sorry but that there was something I had to do; something that I just had to get out of the way before we went inside.  

I kissed him. 

And then I announced that I was hungry and that we should really go and eat.  We walked into the restaurant. 

We were seated in a booth.  I don’t remember what we ate or drank or even much of what we talked about that night.  What I do remember is asking him for his wallet and looking through it.  How rude of me!  I always think you can learn a lot about a person from the contents of their wallet and/or purse.  And I totally remember the waiter saying what a cute couple we made and saying something about how nice it is to see two people so happy.  We laughed it off, dismissing it with a “but this isn’t a real date” comment.

When we finished it was still early.  It was a beautiful early spring evening.  A perfect evening for a walk.  Unfortunately, Tyson’s corner is not an ideal place for a romantic stroll.  He asked if I wanted to follow him back to his house.  That there was this quaint old town down near a river that we could go for a walk and get ice cream.  Not wanting the evening to end,  and never being one to turn down ice cream, I agreed.

Written by nicolemarie

October 23, 2007 at 8:39 pm